"It's mostly locals," Thomas admitted, waving a hand in a sort of vague motion. "They'll come in on their own time, it's usually not too bad. Some will just stay for their meal, others will stay and socialize all night- though, admittedly, the ones who stay are usually just the ones without a family to go home to."
And, seemingly right in cue, the door of the pub opened- Bridget skipped inside, holding a market bag in one hand, and Abigail not far behind her. Bridget ran to Thomas, who quickly scooped her into his arms- and with a playful oof sound, as the girl really was getting nearly too old to be picked up this way. "Well hello, Little Bit!" he greeted his daughter with a kiss to her cheek.
"Hello, papa! Mama and I had a really good time at the market today. She got me a new bonnet! And we have apples!"
Thomas laughed, glancing to Abby with a smile, then looking back to Molly. "Ah, my manners- Molly," he gestured to her, "my family. My wife, Abigail, and our daughter, Bridget."